In the ruins of the void, two supreme laws were still colliding.
Naruto's existence was erased and restored, restored and erased. The Ōtsutsuki God's existence was erased and restored, restored and erased.
They were like two perpetual-motion machines, one desperately wiping the slate clean, the other desperately writing everything back.
Naruto's fingers were nearly stiff. His hands had not stopped for a millisecond; with every Hand Seal, he replicated himself billions of times.
His soul felt as though it had been ground beneath a millstone a thousand times. Each pass scraped away a layer, and each time, a new one grew back.
His blond hair had lost its wild look. It had grown to his shoulders and hung there in a mess.
The Ōtsutsuki God was no better off. His dark red glow had dimmed until it looked like dying embers.
His enormous golden eye was as murky as muddy water. He had consumed more than seventy percent of his foundational power, and every second he maintained Existence Deletion, his very being shrank.
He grew smaller and smaller, from larger than a star to smaller than a planet, then from the size of a planet to the size of a meteorite.
The two remained locked in a stalemate. Neither could kill the other, and neither could stop.
The five Eternal War Generals had watched them fight for so long that they had worn through more than a dozen decks of cards.
Saitama had eaten three tons of discount lollipops from the supermarket. Lü Bu and Guan Yu had gone from opponents to card-playing buddies. Shengzhu was so bored he had cycled through the twelve Talismans again and again. WarGreymon had filled three hard drives with data logs.
Then the summoning array lit up.
That simple, unremarkable Minimum-Welfare Summoning Array, which